


A First for Everything

by Gemz0rz, ThePirateCelt



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, PWP, that's porn WITHOUT plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemz0rz/pseuds/Gemz0rz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePirateCelt/pseuds/ThePirateCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony always thought it was hate between them, but it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written RP-style with the beautiful and lovely Gemz0rz. We own nothing except our awesomeness.

To say that it had been a long day was an understatement. Tony had struck out in the shop, he’d struck out during an Assembly, and finally, he’d struck out during the team debriefing where Fury and Steve had ripped him a new ass for being reckless. It was starting to get old — everyone knew how Tony worked and while he’d never thought of himself as being purposely reckless (unless, y’know, he was dying), he did tend to lean away from the self-preservation side of things. Turned out Captain America wasn't a fan of that.

So Tony had taken himself to the Tower gym and strapped on a pair of boxing gloves, eager to get his aggression out in a way that also might help him sleep through the night. He was working on form when he heard the gym door open but he didn't stop to see who it was.

This was Steve’s ritual a few times a week, come down to the gym, set up one of the special punching bags Tony’d bought, one of the ones that could take what he could dish out for at least a little while, and work out his frustrations. There was a lot to be frustrated about these days.

But tonight, it was the mission that was foremost on his mind, and when he walked through the doors to find Tony already swinging away, he almost turned around and walked back out. Instead, he took a deep breath, knowing that team unity had to be a priority. “You could keep more power behind your swings if you pivoted your hips a little,” he said quietly, wrapping his knuckles with tape.

Tony almost stopped when he heard Steve’s voice but forced himself to keep punching, anger blooming in the pit of his stomach.

“Or don’t… that’s alright, too.” He tore the tape with his teeth, his tone mild. If Tony didn't want to talk, that was fine. They were both here to hit things, and he could do that just as effectively in silence.

“I didn't ask for your opinion,” he ground out, his fists moving a little faster. “In fact, I never ask for your opinion, and yet you keep giving it to me. Is there a special cheat code I have to enter to make the Judgement of Steve Rogers stop?” He overextended on his next punch and hissed, pulling back on his force.

“You’re right, you didn't.” If this were the battlefield, it would be a different story, but it wasn't. It was the gym that Tony had built, in the tower that was essentially his home, and Steve was just as essentially a guest. For the hundredth time, he knew he had to get a place of his own off SHIELD HQ. “Forget I said anything.” When he laid into his bag, it was more vicious than usual, the chains rattling.

Tony threw a few more punches and then stopped abruptly, his face screwed up in an expression that was both angry and disbelieving. “No, you know what? I’m not going to.” He moved to the edge of the boxing ring and pointed at Steve. “I’m not going to forget that you hung me out to dry up there. I get that Fury’s on my ass because that’s his thing but you? You’re supposed to have my back. Instead, you fed me to the wolves. Real fucking team-like, Cap.”

“Tony, you left Hawkeye wide open out there.” Steve’s tone was heated now. This was not about loyalty. This was about being held accountable. “Agent Barton doesn't have a metal suit, or super powers of any kind. He has a bow, Tony, and because of decisions you made, he was left front and center today. You’re damn right I’m going to call you out on that.” The bag stilled as he abandoned his punches.

“Bullshit. Widow had him and you knew it. You all knew it. Mostly, Hawkeye knew it, and he told me to do what I did because, oh right, I used our comm and asked. You all heard! He was fine!”

“That doesn't mean it was the plan! Tony…” He grasped for words and couldn't find them swallowing hard as he glared at his teammate. “I just need you to realize that other people are responsible for the consequences of your actions. But obviously that’s asking too much.” His face twisted into something very closely resembling a sneer before he laid back into the punching bag.

That made him angry. Even angrier than before. Tony stepped through the ropes and jumped down from the ring, walking toward Cap. “You know damn well that no one was in danger out there. You’re just angry because we strayed from the plan, a plan that, as you well know, wasn't working. It’s called deviation, Steve. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes it’s better than the plan.”

“And sometimes it’s a dangerous gamble, Stark.” He didn't slow his punches, didn't pause once, though he knew exactly how close Tony had gotten.

“Everything we do is dangerous. Sure it was a gamble, but it paid off, so next time, thank me instead of reaming me up one side and down the other in front of a table of peers.” He closed in on Steve and leaned in to say, “I let it happen this time. I won’t let it happen again. Next time you get in my face, I’ll get in yours, super soldier or not.”

Steve stopped the bag with a loud thud, his palms slamming into the vinyl. “You do that at your own risk, soldier.” He wasn't intimidated. Disappointed, maybe, excited in a way he shouldn't be, and he fought to tamp that from his mind.

“Do not call me a fucking soldier,” Tony spat.

“I didn't call you a fucking anything.” It was a mark of how riled up he was that Steve had no problem dropping language like that. “Is that your problem with all this? That you were called out in front of the team?”

Tony crossed his arms. “My problem is that your logic is flawed. I don’t deal in it. And yeah, you called me out in front of the team. That pisses me off, and $10 says it’d piss you off too.”

“If you have a problem with my plan, or with me, you’re free to call me out in front of whoever you’d like, Tony. Fury, the rest of the team, God, I don’t care. It’s called being accountable.”

“Oh please. You’d hate it. You hate anything that upsets your control, or anything that calls your ability to command into question. You might be able to fool the rest of them but I see you for what you are, and I see what you fear.”

“Alright, Tony.” Steve spread his hands wide. “Tell me all about it, since you obviously have the answers. What is it I’m afraid of?” The list was not short, but he doubted Tony had any idea what he was talking about.

He fought the urge to smile. “The cold. Loss. Death.”

“Not quite.” Steve managed a smile. The cold was really more of an urban legend. Sure, he didn't like it, but fear? Far from it. Loss was a way of life. He’d known it before he was Captain America, and he wasn't disillusioned to think it would be any different now. Death was closer to the truth, but the real heart of the matter was that he was afraid he’d be responsible for someone’s death. Which was why deviations got him so worked up. “Care to try again?”

That rankled more than Tony cared to say. His jaw tightened so much that he swore his teeth might crack. “You think I’m going to get someone killed on this team.”

“I think someone is going to eventually be responsible for the injury or death of another member, yes.” Steve’s tone was less sharp now. The thought made him weary, but it was the bottom line of being a hero.

“And you just want to make sure you don’t get blamed.”

“I want to save anyone that burden,” he corrected him forcefully. “That’s what being a team is, to me.”

“Because you’re such a hero, taking care of the rest of us.”

“If that’s what you want to think, Tony.” He held up his hand, the universal “I’m done” gesture.

His hand shot out to grab Steve’s before he realized what he was doing. “No, we’re not finished.”

Reflexively, Steve broke the hold and shifted on the balls of his feet, defensive. “What do you want from me, then?” In any other situation, Steve would have tried to work the mission tension into something else, something they’d been dancing around for weeks, but tonight he was legitimately angry with how wrong Tony was about him. About everything.

“I want you to admit that you fucking hate me. I want to stop this bullshit attempt at “team work” and just get it out in the open. You don’t like me, you don’t like my methods, and you haven’t since we first met. Stop being such a damn coward and just say it.”

“You’re right, okay?” Steve was shouting, and he forced himself to lower his voice. “I don’t like your methods. Your methods are going to get someone hurt.” The soldier in him wanted nothing more than to prevent that, but he knew that he had limits. “But hate you? You?” Steve ripped the tape off his knuckles, so done with training tonight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?” Tony growled as he threw out a hand to stop Steve from walking away. He knew the consequences, knew he was probably going to get hit, but he didn't care. He wanted an excuse to hit Steve back. He’d take anything.

Steve rushed a hand out to block Tony, grabbing the man’s wrist and flinging it away from his space. “Don’t push me, Stark.” His voice was dark and deep, and his eyes hid something that had nothing to do with the mission.

“Or what?” he challenged.

“Or you might get more than you bargained for.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Steve hesitated for a long moment, his hands clenching and unclenching, and when he swooped in, there was nothing defensive about it. He pressed his lips to Tony’s like he’d thought of doing so many times before, blazing and inexpert. When he pulled back, he searched Tony’s face for anything. “It’s not hate, Stark.” He enunciated every word, wanting his meaning crystal.

Not many things surprised him anymore. It was a result of the lifestyle he’d led up until his brief stint in Afghanistan, but this surprised him. This blew him out of the water. Sure, he’d called it sexual tension in the beginning, but as things progressed and they worked together even more, nothing had cooled between them. Tony had started to think that, considering the depth of Steve’s constant disappointment, they would never get along. They would never agree. They’d never be friends.

And now this.

Tony knew his eyes were wide but he couldn't do a thing about it. He blinked a couple times, breath heavy in his chest, before he managed to work his mouth. “I—” was all he got out before he wound his hands in the neck of Steve’s shirt and hauled him back, mouth hot and wanton and far too fast.

Steve watched him like a mouse watched a cat, reading into his every move. He didn't have to wait long, and when Tony hauled him back in, his answer was definitive. Steve’s groan was low, and it rumbled over Tony’s tongue as they kissed. His hands, blessedly free of tape, hovered, unsure of themselves, and his mind reeled with the taste of Tony Stark.

Everything seemed to process at the speed of light and Tony eagerly ran his hands down Steve’s body, keeping his mouth occupied as he slipped his hands beneath his t-shirt. He felt every ridge of muscle before he gripped Steve’s waist and pulled him flush.

The questing of Tony’s fingers left Steve a little dumbstruck, and he let his hands mirror Tony’s holding him close, firmly above the demarcation line of his belt. Indulgently, he slipped his fingers to the back of Tony’s head, threading through the sweaty hair as he swept his tongue into his mouth, finally pulling back for air. “Not hate,” he underlined, breathless and a little frantic.

“Not hate,” Tony echoed as he finally reached an understand of Steve. He kissed his lips again before he moved to the sharp line of his jaw, nipping his way to Steve’s neck. He wanted to throw him down and have his way with him — and he’d be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about it before — but the fact that Steve was here, kissing him back, was so beyond anything he’d ever expected that Tony had to put all thought out of his mind. He relied on pure adrenaline to see him through, and though Steve’s hands hovered at his waist, Tony’s own fingers were already working at the clasp to the taller man’s pants.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was an urgent whisper, his hips dancing away as he felt nimble fingers at his fly. “This gym isn't exactly private, anyone could walk in.” It was hard enough reconciling the fact that this — that he and Tony — could conceivably happen in this day and age without creating wave after wave of backlash, but that didn't mean he wanted it to happen in everyone’s face. His fingers tightened in Tony’s hair for a moment, a single proprietary tug, and he looked back at the door. “I… need a little more privacy.”

“The doors lock.” He couldn't help but feel he’d missed a colossal point but he reached for Steve again anyway, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin. When the Captain moved back yet again, Tony opened his eyes and fought the urge to sigh in frustration. “No, really. The doors lock.”

“Yes, and if one of our team members wonders why the gym is locked and the lights are on and oh say, isn't that Captain America in the corner? What’s he doing? It looks like — oh. Oh god.” He swept a broad hand over his face, the tips of his ears flushed. “Do you see my point?”

“I see your point, I just fail to feel any shame.” Steve wasn't going to budge an inch, though, and so Tony really did sigh as he propped his hands on his hips. He felt like they’d just lost all their momentum and he chewed his lip, trying to figure out a smoother way to invite Steve upstairs than just saying, “Hey, guy, want to go to the penthouse and fuck?”

Eventually, he shook his head. “Fine, fine. You’re right. I just…” he spread his hands to show how lost he was on what to do.

“I, ah…” Steve scrubbed the back of his neck with that same broad hand. “I can just head home, if this has gotten out of hand?”

Tony’s stomach bottomed out. “I really, really do not want you to do that,” he rasped, his eyes dark with meaning.

“Oh. Oh.” Steve swept back in, cupping Tony’s jaw as he brought their lips together again. “Maybe you should ask me upstairs then…?” There was so much uncertainty in his tone, but there was more raw want, and it won over.

“Come upstairs,” he asked. “Come upstairs and stay upstairs and don’t leave upstairs.” He hooked his fingers in Steve’s belt loops and brought their hips together, rubbing against him so he could feel the effect he had.

“Jesus, shepherd of Judea…” Steve breathed out as Tony rutted against him. His eyes closed as he fought to keep breathing, and he nodded once. “Upstairs. Now.”

Tony grinned against Steve’s mouth. “Glad we’re in agreement.” He licked Steve’s bottom lip before he pulled him in for a slower, more intense kiss, then he forced himself to step away and head for the hallway and the elevator. He didn't need to look behind him to know that Steve was following and he mashed the call button with purpose, the doors quickly opening to reveal the car. The moment they were both inside and the doors were closed, Tony pressed the express button for the penthouse and then pinned Steve against the cool metal wall, his mouth everywhere at once.

Steve followed, his feet obviously more informed than his brain, and when Tony caged him in against the wall of the elevator, away from prying eyes, something snapped. Steve rumbled low against Tony’s tongue, agreement vibrating through his mouth, and his hands cupped the smaller man’s face, encouraging him to slow down, to teach him what he tasted like, to let Steve have the moment he’d been trying not to think about for weeks now.

“You’re going to kill me with this enjoying-the-moment thing,” he griped, but there was no heat in his words. He slowed down and let himself enjoy the feel of Steve, the warmth that radiated off his body and the way strength was carved into every inch of his flesh. Tony’s eyes trailed downward, getting stuck on the bob of his Adam’s apple, the stretch of his shirt across his chest, the narrow line of his waist that disappeared into a pair of sweats. Air was getting harder to come by and Tony bit at the corner of his lip, letting his hands wander where they would.

It reminded Steve of that time Bucky had introduced him to the Tilt-A-Whirl. Everything was off balance, everywhere at once, and he was having the time of his life. He darted his tongue out, more enthusiasm than skill, to lick into Tony’s mouth, his breath catching at the way Tony let him. Indulgently, he arched away from the metal of the elevator wall, pressing against Tony to catalog his reaction.

All his breath left him in a rush and one hand came up to thread in Steve’s hair, pulling him as close as was physically possible. Tony pulled Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, tongue gently probing inside, and it was then he heard the ring of the elevator. “Fuck.” He didn't want to move, and so he didn't — he reached out to press the stop button to ensure the elevator wouldn't move and then went back to Steve, easing his shirt up and over his head.

Steve was nothing if not agreeable, lifting his arms obediently to remove his shirt. He swallowed hard at the way Tony looked at him then, and before he changed his mind, he knew they needed to get out of the elevator. Spreading his fingers against Tony’s chest before his lips could distract him again, he backed him up from where they were ensconced, JARVIS lighting the room as they stepped into the penthouse. The whole time, Steve babbled in an effort to keep himself out of his own head. “Does Pepper think your mouth is as dirty as I do…?”

“What does that even mean?” Tony murmured as he tried to halt Steve’s progress, bringing his mouth close for another kiss.

“It means you have an appalling vocabulary,” Steve teased, only half serious as he closed the last few millimeters between them, hungry for another kiss.

“Now you sound like you’re channeling Pepper,” he whispered between kisses, tongue darting out to lick Steve’s lips. “And it’s kind of an endearing quality. And funny. Definitely funny.” His hands fell to Steve’s waist and Tony played beneath his waistband, teasing the hair that surrounded Steve’s length.

Steve’s breath whooshed out of him in the space of a single second. “Tony.” Blue eyes were suddenly dark and focused on a single spot in front of him. Sure, he’d been touched before — but technically it hadn't been for 70 years, and the drag of Tony’s fingers were a lot different than any showgirl’s.

“That’s a pleasant reaction,” he noted, eyes wandering downward. He could see Steve hardening against him, could feel it on his leg, and Tony smiled as he brushed his fingers lower.

“Pleasant?” Steve’s voice was a low gasp as he held onto the man’s biceps, tilting his neck to relieve some of the tension there. It was finally occurring to him that he had no practical idea what he was doing; all he knew was that he wanted it. Following Tony’s lead, Steve skimmed his fingers along the smaller man’s belt, his touch more confident than it actually was.

“Yes,” Tony said, eyes flicking upward for half a second. “Pleasant. See also: great, awesome, fucking hot, sexy.” When he reached Steve’s tip, he wrapped his hand around him and started to stroke.

There was no helping it: Steve actually squeaked. His breath heavy, he pulled away from Tony for a moment to compose himself, putting the sofa between them. his fingers drummed against the fabric, already imagining skimming over Tony. But first: “Tell me this isn't some joke to you.”

Steve was gone. He was gone. Tony’s eyes opened and he felt irritating rise when he saw how far Steve had gone. “What? What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m making sure we’re on the same page.” Steve was actually quite proud of how level his voice was. He didn't want to get into how many times he’d thought about this, how it had never been an option in his time, and how much he was taking on faith to believe that it was an option now. “Now, you heard me. Tell me this isn't a joke.”

“Why in holy hell would this be a joke?” he asked, irritation creeping into his voice. When Steve didn't answer, Tony sighed roughly and pointed to the obvious erection he had. “Does that look like a joke to you?”

It was all Steve could do to keep his expression neutral. “You tell me.”

He grunted in disbelief and ran a hand over his face. “No, this is not a joke, but I swear to Christ, if you keep standing there looking at me like I’m some fucking horror, I’ll be happy to escort you out.” He was serious and, truthfully, still angry from earlier. If Steve wanted to play this game then Tony would make him regret it.

“Excuse me for wanting to know in advance if I’m just your weekend distraction, Stark.” There was a lot more bite in Steve’s voice than he’d meant for there to be, but this… this couldn’t happen. He couldn't do this if it was going to be a mistake, no matter how badly he wanted to make it.

“What are you expecting out of this? A relationship?”

“We already have a relationship,” he pointed out obtusely. Knowing that wasn't a fair answer, he gave a little. “I just… don’t want talk getting around.”

“You mean you don’t want people to know you've slept with me.”

“I mean I don’t think who I’m sleeping with should be a talking point, period.”

“What, you think I’m going to run around the locker room screaming, “I fucked Captain America!”?”

“Look, if you’re not willing to answer a simple question, I probably shouldn't be here.” Steve grabbed his shirt in a fist, cheeks pink with embarrassment, brushing past Tony on the way to the elevator.

He threw out a hand to stop Steve and looked in his eyes. “I did answer,” he said seriously. “This is not a joke. I don’t…” He pulled his hand away to rub it over his eyes. “I wouldn't joke about something like this. I know you think I’m a dick, that I’m miserable and only think about myself, but I’m not cruel.”

“That’s not what I think.” And sometimes that was true. “I think that you might be able to look at this a little more lightly than I can.” He cleared his throat, tracing up the arm that held him in place. His shirt dropped to the floor.

Something about Steve’s touch suddenly burned and Tony pulled away to walk over to his windows. “If you’re thinking about things this much then maybe you should go,” was all he said, his back to Steve.

Steve’s laugh was short, all nerves as he stared at Tony’s back. “You’d rather I didn't think about sleeping with you?”

“No, but you’re making this really hard.”

“I’m sorry.” They might have their differences, and among them Steve didn't really quite know how there was room for attraction, but he was all sincerity as he apologized. “I didn't realize —” He hadn't stopped to think, more accurately. “…I’ll go.”

“Steve—” Tony turned and this time, his expression was naked sadness. “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay and just… fuck, don’t think so damn little of me.”

“It’s not that, it’s —” He cut himself off, strong fingers carding through blonde hair that resettled perfectly. “It’s me, Tony.” He tried for a smile, but he could feel that it was a little off. “I haven’t done this in 70 years.” There. A joke. He didn't mention that he’d never done it quite like this… Tony was a smart man. He’d know.

He took a breath and blew it out. “Just stop laying expectations on this. Whatever this is.” He waited a beat before he moved toward Steve, steps tentative as he encroached on his space.

“You don’t expect anything of me…?” Steve’s voice dipped again as Tony came close, and the soldier grazed his hand over the cotton of the other man’s shirt.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” He settled his hands on Steve’s hips again.

“In what way, then?” Steve suddenly wanted to push him, and he let his hands wander to his belt buckle again, slowly pulling it free, his eyes still on Tony’s.

His blue eyes were penetrating, Tony realized, and he felt raw and naked beneath Steve’s gaze. “Look, I want you if you want me. If you don’t want me…” He laughed — who was he kidding? “Yeah, I’d still want you anyway. I don’t expect anything, I just… I want.”

Steve swallowed audibly, quickening his fingers, and with a steadying intake of breath, he slipped his hand past Tony’s waistband. The shock of finding that he went commando wrote itself over his features, and two seconds later he seized the opportunity, wrapping tentative fingers around his length.

His fingers twitched the moment Steve touched him and Tony blew out a breath, eyes slipping closed.

Encouraged, Steve pushed Tony’s pants low on his hips, stroking the only way he knew how; like he did when he was alone. He tried not to let his face show how studious he was, and the moment he stopped thinking so hard, he leaned in to press his lips to Tony’s.

Steve’s hand was big and rough, his palm weathered from wielding his shield. Tony felt every callus, every imperfection in his grip, and it took his breath away. One hand slipped up to grip Steve’s shoulder as Tony kissed him back, all eager earnestness as he tried to convey how much he wanted this with his mouth.

Steve shuddered at the slide of Tony’s tongue, his grip faltering just a little. “Do you mind if… I mean, can I…” He blew out a short breath, amused in a dark sort of way. “Things used to be so different, but Clint says today it’s polite to ask, so…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, the tips of his ears pink. “I’d like you in my mouth.”

Tony had to suppress a tiny whine of happiness. “Yes, yes, yes,” he breathed as he let his head fall forward, resting on Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck, yes, please.”

“There’s that mouth again,” he rumbled, nerves and excitement warring in the pit of his stomach. He dropped to his knees, hoping that enthusiasm would make up for something here. “But… no expectations, right?”

This was it. This was the part that blew Tony’s mind. Captain America was on his knees in front of him with his dick in his hands and all Tony could think was, “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“Steve…” was all he managed to get out, his voice far too strangled for his liking, and he wound his fingers into blond hair.

As little as Steve had experienced, he knew that was the international symbol for “yespleasegetonwithit,” and he managed a chuckle as he leaned forward. His mouth was tentative as it swept over Tony, tongue darting out to curve around his head before guiding him inside. It was foreign but incredibly hot despite his frame of reference, and he pressed one palm to Tony’s hipbone as he watched the man.

He went weak in the knees the moment Steve’s mouth closed around him. Tony slid a foot sideways to widen his stance and gripped Steve’s hair even more tightly, not necessarily guiding him but holding on for dear life. “God, that feels good,” he moaned, head rolling back as he closed his eyes.

If Steve could have breathed out a sigh of relief, he would have. Instead, he took Tony further into his mouth, a light suction hollowing his cheeks. Holding that suction, he began to bob, hoping that he was getting some part of it right. Even if he wasn't, it was doing everything for him, and he reached his free hand down past the waistband of his sweats to cup himself.

It was embarrassing, the sounds that were beginning to slip from his mouth, but Tony couldn't find it in himself to care. He was mumbling nonsense, words of encouragement and curses beneath his breath, and his hips began to move in tandem with Steve’s mouth. When he glanced down, he saw Steve’s hand snaked between his own legs and felt a curl of heat unfurl in his stomach. “Come here,” Tony urged as he ran a hand over Steve’s jaw.

Steve blinked, pulling off of Tony’s length with little finesse, kissing the jut of his hipbone with wet lips before he stood. He settled both hands on Tony’s waist, nuzzling close, unsure of what to do with his mouth now that it had been where it’d been. The showgirls had always been divided on that particular topic… “M’sorry,” he settled for brushing the tip of his nose against Tony’s collarbone. “I’ll get better at that.”

“No, no, no.” Tony turned his mouth toward Steve’s and caught his lips in a kiss, licking. “No, you’re amazing at that, I just—” He slipped his hand into Steve’s pants and wrapped his hand around his length. “—wanted to do that.”

‘Tony…” Steve’s voice was immediately a low whine, his cock hard between Tony’s fingers. His hips canted a little, more eager than his brain was to stop them. It was all he could do to part his lips for the kiss.

“I like hearing you say my name like that,” he grinned as he moved his hand. He barely left Steve enough time to take a breath before he was kissing him again, guiding him backward toward the couch. As soon as they were close enough, Tony pushed Steve down onto the seat and arched over him, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck.

“Yeah?” Steve’s voice was wrecked, and he whispered between kisses. “Gonna happen a lot.” Kiss. “I can tell.” Kiss. He went back as Tony guided him, hauling him in by the collar of his shirt. He was all too happy to let Tony’s lips drift everywhere while his own hands explored his ribs, the reactor, his hips, reaching down to smooth a thumb over his balls. It was hard to be shy under a man like Tony Stark, and Steve knew better than to let the opportunity slip by.

He shivered under Steve’s touch, momentarily losing himself before he forced his mind to focus. “A lot, huh?” Tony liked the sound of that and made a point to tell Steve as much. He pulled Steve’s hand from his pants and licked his fingers before he dropped to his knees, yanking the sweatpants out of his way and taking Steve fully into his mouth.

“Tony,” Steve’s voice was loud and sharp as the smaller man closed his mouth around him. “You…” He huffed, gulping, forgetting for a moment that you didn’t need to swallow oxygen. His fingers shook against Tony’s shoulder as he adjusted to the heat of his mouth.

Tony made sure to hum in agreement, knowing the vibration would drive Steve wild, and sucked him all the way down, opening his throat.

Steve keened. This felt completely different to the blow-jobs he remembered. “T-Tony…” His hand settled unsteadily on the crown of his head.

He added his hand to Steve’s cock, twisting as he sucked, and pulled off long enough to make eye contact before slowly descending again.

“Christ.” Steve swore low, unable to pull his eyes away from Tony’s as he moved lower. Steve’s hips twitched, and he reached an unsure hand for Tony’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with a thumb.

Tony flicked his eyes back down to focus on what he was doing, but the moment he felt Steve’s finger brush his cheek, he let him slip from his mouth to kiss his hand. “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said quietly before he went back to sucking.

In that moment, Steve sobered. “Wait — a long time?” He had just enough time to bask in the idea that maybe this wasn't a weekend distraction when Tony’s mouth swept his rational thoughts away again. “Gonna have to stop soon,” he panted, pulling at Tony’s earlobe gently.

He murmured his dissent and added more suction, more tongue, more everything. He wanted to see Steve unwind beneath him.

One of Steve’s legs kicked out at the heightened stimulation, his breath catching in a series of hitches. “T-Tony — want more than this…” He tried to tell him, but it devolved into a low moan and the slide of his fingers through dark hair.

Only then did Tony stop, though his hand still moved slowly as he considered Steve. “Have you done this before?” It was a valid question — if he hadn’t, then it would take time before they could go as far as they both wanted, but if Steve had…

“This?” He looked down at Tony between his legs, lips slightly swollen, and his heart swelled. “Yeah… Never like this, though.”

Never like this. That meant something, Tony knew it did, but he didn't have the presence of mind to ask what. So he pushed up to kiss Steve, tongue everywhere at once, his hand still stroking. “I have to get something,” he said when he pulled away, “but for God’s sake, don’t leave.”

Steve was pretty sure the something he was referring to was a rubber, but to say so would either be presumptuous or misinformed, and luckily it was still within his faculties to nod, one hand cupping at Tony’s cheek to keep his lips close for as long as he could. “M’not going anywhere,” he promised roughly.

“Good.” He didn't want to leave but it would serve a greater purpose. Tony ducked forward to press a kiss to Steve’s lips and then stepped away, hurrying his steps to the bedroom. He immediately went to his bedside table and pulled out both a condom and lube, then practically ran back to the living room. When he came up to the couch, he didn’t circle around but walked up behind Steve, kissing his ear before he slid a hand over his chest and down to wrap around his cock.

“Still here,” Steve promised with a looped smile, smiling at how hurried Tony’s footsteps were. When Tony stopped behind him, Steve stretched up to meet him, brushing a kiss against his cheek before he realized what Tony was doing. “Hey —” His breath stuttered at the grip Tony had on him, his tongue darting out to wet dry lips. “Would rather be able to touch you… please?”

“What, you don’t like to be teased?” he smirked.

“Not the biggest fan of it, no,” he grunted, reaching back to touch Tony’s shoulders. “Come here?”

“Shame. I like to tease.” He stayed purposely out of reach and moved his hand at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Tony.” This time, his name was said through gritted teeth. “Come here before I come back there.”

The grin that split his face was wide and he lingered a minute longer before he circled around, setting his prizes on the table next to the couch. He curled over Steve for a kiss and let his fingers trail over his chest.

“Thank you,” he rumbled, having gotten his way. His eyes flickered to the accouterments but said nothing; he knew the twitch of his cock wouldn’t be missed. Tony curled close, and Steve wasted no time pulling him closer, licking into his mouth.

Tony reached out blindly for the lube, wondering why he’d bother to set it down in the first place, and popped the top. He dropped to his knees again as he squeezed some onto his fingers and traced the line between Steve’s balls and his entrance, circling gently but not probing just yet. Tony leaned down and bit Steve’s thigh before he soothed the marks with a kiss.

Steve watched Tony’s every move, knowing the man was waiting for him to look away. He didn't, and it was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. That is, until Tony swept slick fingers against him. It wasn't a new sensation — Steve knew what his own fingers felt like — but this was much better. His mouth opened, closed, then open again, past sound as he shuddered under Tony’s touch, tucking his knees a little closer to his chest in blatant invitation.

“We should do this instead of fighting, you know.” It was such an offhand comment but somehow it didn't feel out of place. Tony leaned in to lick the lines of Steve’s abs and then pushed one finger in, slowly, his eyes on Steve the entire time.

“Whatever you want,” he told Tony, swallowing at the first flutter of pressure against him. “…Within reason.” He panted twice as a single finger slipped inside, moving against it once, just a little greedy. “Don’t get too comfortable down there,” he threatened, but it held no water — it was obvious how much he was enjoying being where he was.

“You don’t seem to mind,” Tony observed with a wicked smile. He began to move his finger in and out, every now and then crooking at the first knuckle or twisting in a way that he hoped would reduce Steve to jelly.

“Don’t… don’t mind,” he promised in a hoarse whisper. “But next time.” Steve found Tony’s eyes and his gaze didn't waver as he spoke. “You’re going to lay like this for me at some point.”

Every ounce of breath left him and Tony could feel the flush creep up his neck, not out of embarrassment but out of sheer want. Not only did Steve want him like this, but this wasn't going to be a one time thing. Neither of them was planning on letting this drop.The thought thrilled him.

“You can have me any way you want me,” he answered as he thrust his finger in deep. “Including the stuff that other people might find weird or kinky. Just as long as it’s you.”

Clint had mentioned kink, brushing by the subject like he’d assumed the captain didn't need to know. And he didn't think he’d needed to know either, but damn if he wasn't constantly wrong these days. “It’s a date,” he promised Tony, rocking shamelessly against his finger. His hand crept over his stomach, fingers lightly circling his cock as Tony moved.

He watched Steve’s hands creep down to touch himself and Tony felt another wave of lust wash through him. He could feel Steve relaxing beneath his touch, and so when he pulled his finger back, he pushed in with another, careful to stay slow. He knew the difference between good stretch and bad stretch and he wanted everything about this to be good for Steve. Tony leaned forward and brushed a kiss against the underside of his length.

“Ohhh…” Steve closed his eyes, relaxing for Tony’s fingers. His free hand reached down, fingers smoothing over the shell of Tony’s ear, stroking his jaw, brushing over his lips. He pressed his thumb against the bow of Tony’s lower lip, wanting to see the man curl his tongue around it, and even the thought made him shudder.

It was impossible to ignore Steve’s touch, and Tony gladly turned his head so that he could suck his thumb into his mouth. He turned his eyes back to Steve’s as he pushed his fingers in as far as they would do, then curved them and began to massage.

Despite the ample distraction of Tony’s mouth, Steve’s hips came off the couch as he pressed his fingers home. Every time they slid over his prostate, Steve jumped. “This,” he ground out, “is a much better angle than when I do it myself…”

Tony dropped his head down and moaned quietly into Steve’s thigh. “I want to watch that sometime,” he said unabashedly.

“You got it,” he promised. “Front row, center.” He rolled his hips experimentally, biting back a low groan at the way Tony’s fingers slid inside him. Courage sufficiently bolstered, Steve lifted to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, side-eyeing the foil packet to the side. “You can put that on now…”

“You’re ready?” He twisted his fingers experimentally.

“I’m begging,” he corrected, growling low at the pleasure that bloomed when his fingers twisted.

“Good.” He bit Steve’s thigh again. “I like it when you’re like this.” Tony reached awkwardly for the condom and ripped the package with his teeth, rolling it on with one hand. He kept working Steve as he put lube on himself and then he pushed up to his knees, lining himself up. He pulled Steve in for a kiss and kept their mouths together as he entered him.

“Naked? Agreeable? Like what, exactly?” Steve huffed a laugh, and it abruptly melted into a groan at Tony’s bite. One broad hand cupped the back of Tony’s head then, bringing him in close, the kiss sloppy and enthusiastic and grateful, and then his breath stopped. Tony’s bluntness rested against him, and his mouth went slack beneath Tony’s as a stretch very different than his fingers took over.

His kisses grew hotter and more fervent, and as he pushed deeper into Steve, he moved to kiss his neck, biting down on the hard muscle there. Once he was all the way in, he paused for a moment to let Steve acclimate before he started to roll his hips, thrusting gently at first and then with more force.

Steve swallowed every kiss, arched into every bite, took every inch. He was panting by the time Tony hilted himself against the back of his thighs, but it was just more intense than he’d imagined, certainly not bad at all. The first move of Tony’s hips brought Steve back to the present, and he gasped into the smaller man’s mouth. “Oh yes, do that.” His thrusts gently picked up, and after the initial tenderness faded, Steve relaxed into it, his voice low and constant between kisses. “Yes… Jesus Christ, Tony…”

“God, you’re—nnngh.” He was gasping into Steve’s shoulder, clutching him close as he moved inside him, and Tony’s mind exploded as he realized the one thing he’d wanted since the beginning of the Avengers was finally coming to fruition.

“You too,” Steve grinned, rocking against him and crying out in consequence. His fingers reached for Tony’s hips, pulling him in close, his breath shuddering out of him as Tony filled him up. “It’s everything,” he groaned, his fingers tapping Tony’s skin with want, “I thought it would feel like. Better.” He licked along Tony’s lower lip encouragingly.

He had no words, only his body, and so he pinned Steve back with a fierce kiss and began to slide into him with more intensity, angling for the spot he’d touched earlier with his fingers.

“Fuck,” Steve spat, a rare, real curse. He looped one knee over Tony’s shoulder, curving his spine against the sofa as they set a faster pace. Steve jumped each time Tony slid all the way home, and purposely tightened around him as he slid away. His thumb rasped over the smaller man’s stubble, his jawline rough against his palm, and he kissed him hard, suddenly Steve Rogers, uninformed, again. “Is it —” A short moan. “—I mean, should I…” He nipped Tony’s bottom lip fiercely, legitimately whining as he dragged over his sweet spot again. “If I’m about to, I mean…?” His blue eyes were earnest and naked as they found Tony’s through the pleasure.

The words brought Tony unbearably close to his own orgasm, which had been building since the moment they’d touched each other in the gym. He moaned before he said, “Come, come.” He reached a hand between them and began to stroke Steve, deciding that if the Captain would try to hold out, Tony would simply make it impossible for him to do so.

Steve had no such agenda, and was all too happy to take Tony at his word. He nodded sharply, curving his tongue against Tony’s, kissing him through the gasp that resulted when he felt fingers wrapped around his cock. It didn't take anything, two strokes, maybe three, and everything overwhelmed him, his orgasm hitting like a brick wall. He howled quietly into Tony’s mouth, his whole body caught in the spasms of his dick, and he spurted white over knowing fingers, the world dark behind shut tight eyes.

The way Steve tightened around him was impossible and perfect and everything that Tony could want. He felt the wetness of Steve’s come on his hand and followed on his heels, a feral moan tearing from his throat as he spilled inside Steve. He clung to the blond man on the couch, fingers dug into strong shoulders, and rode the waves of his orgasm with a dizzy happiness.

Steve’s breaths were uneven and quick, but they lengthened rapidly, and he found himself blinking at Tony in a post-coital haze. He almost wished he hadn't come so blindingly hard, knowing he’d missed the nuances of Tony’s reaction because of it. “Hey…” His tone was tellingly tender, and he swept Tony’s hair from his eyes as he looked up at him.

He couldn't even open his eyes, he was so utterly spent. He felt Steve’s hands on his face but couldn't even smile, just dropped his mouth to the big man’s shoulder for a wet kiss.

Steve laughed low, the sound free of tension but not awkwardness. “At some point I’m gonna have to move, you know…”

“No,” Tony muttered petulantly.

“Tony.” Steve smiled, but his voice was tired. “If you don’t let me up, I won’t get any rest, and if I don’t get any rest, I can’t take a turn on top.”

He smiled against Steve’s shoulder and kissed it again before he moved his lips to his neck. “It’s gratifying to hear that you want more of this,” he rumbled.

“And that,” Steve lifted his chin, shivering at the drag of Tony’s facial hair, “is about two tons less self-satisfied than I expected you to sound.”

“You really do think the worst of me.” His tone was light, though his words weren't.

“I don’t, but I was told that this…” He gestured between them, to their closeness, their nudity. “… is sort of your forte.”

Tony pulled back to consider the man beneath him, a wry smile on his lips. “Sort of? Now I know I’m insulted.” He kissed Steve on the lips and then slid away, allowing him room to stand.

Steve breathed out slowly as Tony left him empty. He lowered his feet to the floor, hyper-aware of himself. He knew enough to know that that would probably translate to tenderness later. “ Wasn't my intention, my apologies,” he drawled, a starry look over his face in the aftermath of endorphin onslaught.

He let his eyes rake over Steve’s prone form and slowly smiled. “You look sexy in the aftermath of an orgasm.”

“Mmm,” Steve answered bemusedly. He ran a hand down the contours of his abs without thinking, looking surprised and then self-conscious as his fingers slid through the proof of his earlier orgasm. “I’m ah, just going to… clean up a moment…” He jerked a thumb in the direction he figured the bathroom was in, ducking his head as he slipped from the room.

Tony watched him walk away, his grin ever widening, before he stretched and walked into the kitchen for something to drink. “You want a water?” he shouted.

“Pants,” Steve called back. “I’d like my pants.” He paused, mid-scrub. “And a water, please.”

“No one ever said anything about pants,” Tony argued as he walked to the bathroom, bottle of water in hand. “But water I can help with.” He handed it over and stood drinking his own, completely unashamed of his own nakedness.

“Pretty sure I just did,” Steve grumbled, dropping the washcloth in surprise as Tony walked in. “Jesus, Stark.” In an effort to pretend that he wasn't standing there in his birthday suit, he took the water and drained it, his eyes closed at the cool quench of it.

“You’re uncomfortable naked,” he said plainly. “Unless you have a reason to be, that is. Why?”

“Because I’m standing in front of you, for one.” Steve tossed the bottle in a nearby wastebasket. “For two, we could get an assemble at any moment.”

“I’m pretty much constantly naked and I always manage to assemble wearing clothes. It’s not quite the travesty you’re making it out to be.”

“I guess I’m just not used to dressing in a hurry,” Steve accused.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Steve, we just had sex. Amazing, hot sex, I might add. Why be weird about a little lack of clothing?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Tony got to the good part first. “I just… like to leave some things to the imagination, is all. Don’t expect you to understand,” he said, resigned to the fact that his pants were not forthcoming.

Leave things to the imagination. Steve was wrong — Tony understood just fine, he just didn't share the opinion. With one last look, he rolled his eyes and went to the living room, tossing Steve’s pants down the hallway without a word.

“Thank you,” Steve called with as much dignity as he could muster. He slipped the boxers on, marginally more comfortable as he sought Tony out again. He wanted to stay a while longer, but again, he wasn't sure what was expected of him. He settled for taking the seat opposite Tony on the sofa. “So…”

He was still completely naked. “So.”

Steve breathed out heavily. “So this isn't smooth, and I apologize, but I am interested in doing this again.” He stopped, clarifying. “Not exactly like this.” He had no problem meeting Tony’s eyes. “I meant what I said earlier.” Looking away slightly, he shifted on the couch. “But if you’d rather I didn't stay right now, I can’t say I blame you.”

“Why wouldn't I want you to stay?” The words slipped out so easily that even Tony was surprised that he said them. Steve couldn't even look at him and something like shame and more than a little like self-loathing twisted in his gut. Still, he pushed off the couch and walked over to get his pants, now feeling too exposed. “You can stay,” he said as he pulled up his sweats. “I want you to.”

“I don’t need your lip-service,” he cautioned Tony, standing. “And I’m not gonna be offended if you need time alone. Do you really want me here?”

Tony braced his hands on his hips, his back to Steve. “Christ, how many times do you want me to say it?”

“I just want you to think about it once. So, as many times as that takes.” Satisfied for now, Steve grasped Tony’s wrist, pulling him gently closer.

“I did think about it,” he answered, putting up a little bit of a fight. “That’s all I thought about. It’s all I think about. What more proof do you want?”

“Don’t need any proof,” Steve’s voice was both rougher and more gentle now, in different ways, and he dipped his head to kiss Tony, his tongue seeking entrance.

He softened under Steve’s mouth, lips parting to allow his tongue inside. “Stop second guessing me,” he said when he backed off to breathe. “Seriously.”

“You’re right,” Steve assented, reaching up to rub the back of his head guiltily. “I guess I don’t have to say that this is a little unbelievable, is all.”

“Why is it so hard to believe?”

Steve looked carefully down at Tony then, light bulb clicking on. “You don’t think I've done this before, do you?”

“Judging from what I just witness, you've had at least some experience.”

“Yes,” he admitted, maybe a little more proud of himself than he should be. “…But nothing like that.”

“I don’t understand,” Tony shook his head.

“Ah…” Steve sputtered. “You’re the first man I've ever… I mean, besides myself…”

“Oh.” That made more sense. “I thought…” He’d thought “experience” meant “experience with other dudes” but now, in retrospect, Tony felt stupid for assuming such a thing. “I, ah… misunderstood. Your reaction makes more sense now.”

Steve breathed a little easier at that. “Good.” It wasn't that he didn't understand relationship dynamics, or the mechanics of sex — its that they, like most things, were different in the context of this timeline and his job here. His hands went to rest on Tony’s hips, unconsciously rubbing in slow circles as they talked.

There was no way Tony could ignore the easy way that Steve’s hands had settled low on his waist. He looked down between them, his own fingers mirroring what Steve’s were doing. “You’re staying, right?”

“Told you I wanted to,” he answered, more honest than eager.

“Good,” he said, wrapping a hand around Steve’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “Then come to bed.”

Steve hummed an affirmative against Tony’s lips, following him wordlessly to bed. As if to prove a point, he pulled off his pants before he climbed beneath the sheets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning.

Steve woke shortly before 8 AM, wondering at the absence of sunlight before he realized JARVIS had dimmed the windows. Well, how about that. Turning to make sure Tony was still with him, Steve was unexpectedly affected by the way the smaller man’s face slacked when he was asleep, reactor light filtering beneath the sheets. With a broad smile, he slid sleepily over, nuzzling into the crook of Tony’s neck.

It was early. Tony’s body could feel the hour and when something nudged him away, he groaned and tried to flip over and away from the offending object. “Go ‘way.”

Steve wrapped an arm gently around Tony, pressing fingers between his shoulder blades to snug him close. “Don’t wanna,” he retorted, bending to tease an earlobe between his teeth.

The haze of sleep began to lift and when he felt teeth on his ear, Tony slowly remembered the night before in bits and pieces. He managed to stave off another indignant comment and yawned, eyes still closed. “What’re y’doin’? ‘S early...”

“M’kissing you, what’s it feel like?” Steve trailed his hand slowly down Tony’s spine, grinning wide as his fingers never encountered an edge of elastic.

“Got that.” Tony’s skin goose-pimpled under Steve’s fingers and he craned his head a little, cracking a sleepy eye as he tried to look at Steve behind him. When he felt his hand drift lower, he said, “You going to make good on that?”

“Don’t normally go around writing checks I can’t cash,” Steve rumbled, licking into Tony’s mouth before going for broke and sliding his palm down to cup Tony’s ass, urging him gently against the thigh that Steve slipped between his legs.

Tony’s lips parted and he let out a shuddering breath as he pushed back against Steve. He was already hard, courtesy of the hour, and he ached. “Want you...”

“Got me,” Steve confirmed, reaching between them to wrap lax fingers around Tony’s length. His breath shuddered at how achingly hard he already was. “Jesus...”

“Talk about a good morning.” He bit his lip when Steve’s fingers touched him and reached down to do the same, thumb rubbing lightly through the precome that had already formed at Steve’s tip. He used his free hand to push off the mattress and meet Steve in an intense kiss, still not fully awake but definitely closer.

Groaning into the kiss, Steve had to focus not to tighten his grip overmuch. “It’s about to get better,” he promised, keeping a steady rhythm through the kiss. “So long as you’ll tell me where you keep the lube...?”

“Bedside table.” And there was plenty of it, along with a few other things that might pique Steve’s curiosity. Tony was already reaching for the handle to the drawer, pulling it out while he kept Steve’s mouth busy.

“Thank you.” The real thanks was the slide of Steve’s tongue as he reached into the drawer Tony had so helpfully opened... only to have his fingertips brush glass. His eyebrows knitting toward each other, he pulled reluctantly away to peer into the draw, whistling low. “You are unbelievable,” he said with a chuckle.

“And you’re curious,” Tony teased. “Don’t think I didn't see that glint in your eye.” He pulled on Steve, eager for another kiss.

“Yeah, well.” He kissed Tony gamely. “I’ll try nearly anything once.” He kissed him quickly to seal the promise before grabbing the tub of slick, shutting the drawer for now.

His hand was incessant against Steve’s cock, which was hard and hot beneath his fingers. Tony kissed along his jaw until he reached his ear. “You should let me give you a blowjob.”

Steve chuckled low, but there was a catch in his breathing that gave him away. “Like I’m going to say no to that.”

“Then lie back.” Tony maneuvered Steve until he was flat on his back and kissed over his pecs and abs, his mouth quickly reaching Steve’s cock. Tony didn’t wait a second before he slipped him into his mouth, eyes slipping shut as he sucked.

Steve’s reaction was unfettered by the consciousness that came with being fully awake, and he moaned into open space as he sunk his fingers into Tony’s hair. “Your mouth is obscene,” he gasped, more than pleased with that fact.

Tony wrestled down a grin and chose to hum his agreement instead, his fingers coming up to smooth over Steve’s thigh. He sucked him in as far as he could go but kept the touch of his lips and tongue light, not wanting to push things too fast lest he be denied what he wanted. He pulled off Steve and replaced his mouth with his hand while he looked at the Captain with intent. “I want you now.”

Steve made a myriad of noises in reaction to the warm suction of Tony’s mouth, including one of soft lament as Tony pulled his mouth away. “Can’t have me now,” he apologized, cupping the man’s cheek as he regulated his breathing. “Planning on taking my time with this one, sorry.” He wasn't, of course.

A frustrated grumble escaped from Tony’s throat. He crawled back up Steve’s body, hand still moving, before he brought his lips within a hair’s breadth of the other’s. “Now you’re teasing me,” he said lowly. “Is this payback?”

“Not teasing at all,” Steve promised. “This is in the name of science. You understand that, don’t you?” He lifted his head to kiss Tony before whispering to him, his expression naked with want. “On your knees, would you? You can put your head on the pillow, I might be down there a while.” Steve grinned as he moved away, silently regretting the loss of Tony’s fingers around him. It would be worth it.

Tony arched an eyebrow as he watched Steve, a smile blooming on his face. “I like the way you think,” he confessed as he moved into the position that Steve had indicated, a pillow jammed between his forearms and his face.

“Thought you might,” Steve purred, still sleep-happy as he flipped the cap to slick his fingers, wasting no time in gliding them over Tony’s entrance. His face was half studious, half arousal, and he rubbed slow circles, peering around the bulk of the pillow to steal a look at Tony’s face every now and then.

His mouth was already slack with want, eyes closed to heighten the sensation. “I thought you didn't like to tease?”

“Told you, this isn't teasing.” Steve leaned forward, dropping an errant kiss to the dimples above Tony’s tailbone. “This is homework.” Carefully, he pushed a finger inside, slow and questioning, punctuating the occasion with another kiss. “Is this okay?”

Tony gasped and bit down on his lip, pushing back against Steve. “Fuck, yes. It’s more than okay.” He cracked his eyes open to look at Steve over his shoulder and breathed, “I want you inside me.”

“Nope. Still learning.” Steve twisted his finger gently, working it in and out. He was brick hard thinking about what it might feel like to be inside Tony, and he leaned against Tony’s hipbone to let him feel what he was doing to him before gently introducing another finger. “Still alright down there?” There was heat in his voice, but there was concern first.

“You’re underestimating me,” he answered, pleasure evident in the shake of his voice. “I can take more than that. I can take you, now.”

“I’m busy,” he reminded him again, satisfied he wasn't in any discomfort. In retaliation to Tony’s hurrying, Steve scissored his fingers back and forth, moving them at odds to each other, twisting as he opened Tony further.

Steve was adventurous and Steve was a quick learner. The moment he moved his fingers apart, Tony moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, face buried in his pillow. He knew what this would be like -- Steve wanted to learn him, everything that made him pant and moan and tick, and this was how he planned to do it.

“That noise.” Steve all but panted, rocking gently against Tony’s hip, repeating the motion with his fingers but adding a bit of a twist, stretching his wrist around. “That’s good, yeah?”

“Fuck, fuck, yes.” Tony’s mind had been wiped of all coherent thought and was now filled only with curses, moans, and the word yes. “Yes, yes, yes...” He pushed back against Steve’s hand and let out another moan as the Captain’s fingers brushed deep inside him.

Steve smiled to himself, pausing for just a moment before ever so carefully pushing in a third finger, holding his breath for Tony’s reaction.

The sound that left his mouth was completely lewd, and Steve’s name began to circle in his mind. “Steve, please.” Tony Stark wasn't above begging in bed -- in fact, it was one of his favorite things to do and inspire -- and he wanted Steve so badly that it hurt. His cock was aching against the sheets and even the subtle drag of Egyptian cotton was too much.

“Yeah,” Steve ground out. He had limits, and his patience had just hit one. Flicking open the lube again, he poured too much into his palm, stopping halfway to his dick. “Condom,” he breathed, and if there was a note of whine to his voice, he didn't try to hide it. “Would you...?”

“Screw it,” Tony muttered. “I’m clean. Just go.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that. He wouldn't know the difference, really, but it obviously meant something to Tony, and his hips jumped when his handful of cold lube met his length. It wasn't quiet as he moved his slick hand, stroking himself a few times before forcing himself to stop with a stunted moan, and all of a sudden the blunt head of his cock was resting against Tony’s entrance. “I’m...” he drew in a ragged breath. “I’m gonna let you do this part,” he breathed, bending forward to press a kiss to the base of Tony’s neck, nuzzling between his shoulders. “Just lean back...”

Tony resettled his knees, angling his hips a little, and then pushed onto Steve with a gasp and a moan of pleasure. He gave himself a moment to adjust before he picked up speed and took Steve’s length all in one go, a whimper escaping his lips just before he cried out Steve’s name.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve gasped, holding onto his control by a shred. He held Tony in place with bruising fingers, gathering his self-control. “Not yet,” he panted, holding him still.

He couldn't suppress a growl. “Steve,” he said, pushing up on his elbows to look at the man behind him, “you’re actually killing me here. Fuck me, please.”

“You deserve it,” Steve breathed roughly. “You deserve every fucking second.” In through his nose, out through his mouth, and he moved his hips back with barely a stutter, though his breath caught as he pushed back into Tony, a hand snaking around the man’s waist to pull him down to meet his thrusts.

Tony loved it when Steve swore. It wasn't as rare an occasion as everyone thought -- he _was_ a soldier -- but he especially loved it now, when they were like this, one buried deep inside the other, sweaty and panting and driven only by sex. “Come on,” he urged as he arched back to meet Steve’s hips.

“Don’t rush me, Stark.” His voice was dark in Tony’s ear, and he shifted higher on his knees to change the angle of his thrusts.

That undid him. The moment Steve moved, his cock dragged against a completely different part of him and Tony let out a sound that was a cross between a moan and a wail. He turned his face into the pillow and then bit down on his own arm, though sounds still escaped his throat.

Steve froze above him, stock still. His voice changed, 180 degree flip as he leaned down carefully over Tony’s back, concerned at what he wasn't sure was a good noise. “What did I do...?”

“No, no, no,” he whispered, deep marks in his forearm. “Don’t stop. Please, please, keep going. Keep going.” He wanted to feel it again, feel the depth that Steve had reached and the way tremors of pleasure wracked his body.

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief, and it was like a balloon deflating. He found the angle of his knees again, maybe sharpening it just a little, and his arm tightened around Tony’s waist, pulling the man back to meet his cock. Steve found he liked it when Tony begged, liked it a lot, and he snapped his hips a bit harder hoping to hear it again.

“Ah, God.” He bit his forearm again before his jaw tensed in the opposite direction, his mouth going wide as Steve moved against him. “Keep doing tha--fuck--that. Keep going. Don’t stop. Please.” He could feel his orgasm coming at a blindingly fast rate and longed for the strength to reach his own hand down and stroke himself to completion. Steve was hard behind him, though, filling him in a way that he wasn't used to, and so Tony could only hold onto his sheets and moan.

If Steve weren't hanging onto Tony’s hips as a proxy for his own control, he might have thought to reach down and touch him -- but as it was, he lived for the moment when he bottomed out inside Tony, his world graying around the edges. He made noises of want against Tony’s spine as he bent forward, incoherent warnings about the orgasm sneaking through his synapses.

He reached back without thinking and laced his fingers with Steve’s on his hip, holding their hands there as he tightened purposefully around Steve.

Steve short-circuited as Tony tightened around him, his deep rumble echoing against Tony’s back as he pulsed inside him, feeling too warm in his own skin as he came.

He felt every shiver of Steve’s orgasm, felt the heat inside him, and Tony slowed his hips as he coaxed Steve through it. He was still hard as a rock, his own orgasm within sight but still miles away, but he could take care of that later. For now, Captain America was draped naked over his back with his dick inside him. Can’t get much better than that, Tony mused.

For a moment, Steve tried dumbly to form words, and eventually he gave up trying, letting the stupor that apparently followed an orgasm like that play itself out. When he did move, his fingers brushed Tony, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You didn't...”

“Easy fix for that,” he breathed, head still cushioned on his arm.

“Yeah, there is,” Steve agreed, grasping Tony’s bicep and urging him to flip over.

He did as Steve commanded, thrilling at the thought of being manhandled. “You know, you should do that more often,” he murmured as his hands snaked over Steve’s hips.

“Come before you do?” Steve asked, a blush that had something to do with what felt like bad manners coloring his cheeks.

“Come in general,” Tony said, “but I meant manhandling me.”

“That --” Steve swept the pillow out of the way, “-- can be arranged.” He bent his head then, taking Tony into his mouth in an effort to make up for his oversight.

He gasped at the wet heat of Steve’s lips and a hand snaked into blond hair as he arched back, his hips moving minutely as he rose to meet Steve’s mouth.

Steve chuckled -- or he made a sound that would have been a chuckle, if his mouth hadn't been full. He was blazing through his personal to-do list, and it helped that Tony seemed to love every second. Experimentally, Steve swiped his tongue around Tony’s length, already cataloging the taste of him.

“Jesus, you’re driving me nuts,” Tony gasped and tightened his hand in Steve’s hair. His hand was moving now, guiding the direction of his lover’s mouth, and when Steve licked up the underside of his cock he lost his breath, his control very close to snapping. “Steve... I’m--” He moaned. “--close.”

Steve reached up a broad hand in acknowledgement, pressing the flat of his palm to the lower plane of Tony’s abs, effectively pinning him in place as his cheeks hollowed with suction.

“Steve--” was all he got out and he tugged at the Captain’s hair as a warning before he came, shudders wracking his body, his hand pressed over top of the one Steve had laid on his stomach.

Steve thought  he was ready, but the impulse was more than he’d been prepared for, and the result wasn't exactly pristine. He swallowed what he could, his fingers slick with the rest of it, and lay his cheek to Tony’s hip, panting again.

Tony’s panting eventually slowed until he was able to take a deep breath, letting the air out of his lungs in tiny increments. When he felt he could see straight again, he picked his head up and looked down at Steve, rough fingers running through blond hair. “Come up here,” he said, though his statement took on the form of a question. “I want to kiss you.”

Steve crawled up Tony’s body, holding himself off with biceps that barely had to work. “I taste like you,” he cautioned, his hips pressing Tony’s gently into the mattress.

“I don’t care.” He took Steve’s face in his hands and kissed him full on the mouth, tongue searching and tasting what was left on his lips. He slid a hand down and pushed Steve’s body down on his, urging him to relax and enjoy the aftermath.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, but that was the last of his protests as he kissed Tony back, his body melting into the pleasure of not having to hold back.

“You forget that I have very little if any shame,” Tony whispered between kisses. “Also, I've done some kinky shit that would probably make you cry. Or maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you’d be game. Who knows.” He grinned and kissed Steve again.

The captain colored, but Tony was half right. “I want to hear all about it,” he admitted, low and quiet. Accepting some things about this era apparently came with accepting some things about himself, and sometimes that was easier said than done.

Tony smiled. “Later.” He brushed a hand over Steve’s face. “Back to bed now. You woke me up. And no, before you ask, that is not a complaint. Feel free to wake me up any time.”

“I want that in writing,” Steve rumbled, already giddy about going back to sleep.

“I should amend that statement to say, “Feel free to wake me up any time for sex”. That’ll fit the bill.” He wrapped an arm around Steve and held him close, already drifting back into slumber.

“Too late,” Steve argued, curling into Tony’s embrace. He could be the big spoon just this once.


End file.
